


counter chronicles

by 99FILMS



Series: amour (anime smut) [8]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angry Sex, Chrollo Smut, Cigarettes, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Kitchen Sex, Married Chrollo, Married Couple, Nonbinary Character, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Porn With Plot, Quiet Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sneaky Sex, Strictly Oral, Thanksgiving, Voyeurism, anime smut, dom chrollo, hunter x hunter smut, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28547094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99FILMS/pseuds/99FILMS
Summary: Chrollo is fed up by your brothers speeches at thanksgiving about not being good enough for you. He finds you in the kitchen and blows off steam by getting you off while your family is in the next room.
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader
Series: amour (anime smut) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090733
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	counter chronicles

**Author's Note:**

> song: underwater by baekhyun

Thanksgiving football bets were an entrance to the devil's door. It never turned out pretty when men would go gay for football players for a few hours, shouting at the screen and rooting for their favorite teams. Sometimes it'd end up in admitting defeat and paying up, but other times hands and bottles would be thrown and a brawl will show out. While the men got drunk and loomed over their players tossing balls and tackling each other, the women usually stayed in the kitchen and gossiped about their marriages and their home decor while cooking. 

This time, it was sort of reversed. Since you kept the party small this year, the living room didn't feel like a huge family reunion, just comfortable enough for twelve. That meant less food and more time to relax and enjoy your company. Occasionally you got up from your seat to check on the food, the seventy-two-inch television wide enough to see from the kitchen to keep an eye on the game. Yet another football game. It was practically tradition. Every once in a while you'd have family members come help with cooking, but you preferred to do it mostly alone. It wasn't a hassle. 

As you put on your apron, turning away from the stove to carry your cutting board to the kitchen island, you raise your brows when you see your husband walk in, a stern look on his face as he closes the kitchen door and sets down his beer, frantically pulling a box of cigarettes out the back of his pocket. You frown at him. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Your brothers pissing me the fuck off," Chrollo snarls. "Keep bringing up the same shit that's past drama for a reason. It's _past_ tense. The 'When are you going to marry them? When are you giving them kids? You know they've been wanting them since they graduated. I think you should find a better field of work, I have some friends that can help you.' It's the same shit, I'm just trying to watch the game." 

You sigh, not surprised. "I'm sorry, baby. It's getting old that I have to keep repeating myself." 

"He thinks I'm not good enough for you," Chrollo snickers. "Tell that to the house I bought and the five years we've been together." 

"He's just too protective, and an asshole altogether. I'll talk to him." 

"Even when you do, there's no change," he grips the edge of the countertop and squeezes his eyes shut. "I need a smoke." 

"Not in my kitchen," you warn and he blankly stares at you. "I'm serious." 

"Why?" 

"Because I'm cooking." 

"Speaking of, you were supposed to let me make the Turkey. You take over everything," Chrollo strolls toward you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you close. You watch his tongue as he licks his lips, gasping and tossing your head back when he inches his face closer to lick and suck at your throat, tugging you so you'd grind on his thigh placed directly between your legs. "You smell good." 

You moan unexpectedly loud, slapping your hand over your mouth and he chuckles. He knew where that spot was. The way he whispered his last sentence made your skin prickle, swallowing as you look him in his eyes. "I like cooking, you know this." 

"I don't care," he grips your hip and presses his lips to your own, guiding your hips while sliding his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, and having you moan in between it felt like fire. Your skin grew hot and your mind became hazy from the sounds of salvia swapping and lips smacking erotically. You tossed your arm behind his neck, fingers dancing in his straight hair, tugging. A lewd hiss evoking from his throat. Chrollo pulls you closer to his heated skin, hot hands roaming your body, the bulge in his dark jeans now pressing against your stomach. Chrollo lifts your leg and holds it by his waist to make it easier for him to thrust against you. You moan and break the kiss, his eyes closed, so endured in pleasure he couldn't stop moving. 

"Wait, what if someone catches us?" Your hands fly to his chest, lightly breaking you two apart. 

"If you stay quiet, no one will know," he heaves, already straining in his jeans at this point. "I just need a taste."

You stay silent, Chrollo lowering your leg and turning you before bending you over the kitchen island, towering behind you with his hands roaming your backside, pulling your shorts down your legs, the apron you wore still tied around your waist. Chrollo sucks on two of his fingers before pressing them to your entrance, sinking them knuckles deep into you, a shuddery moan faltering past your plump lips.

"Use them," Chrollo commands, leaning over to suck at your neck and you screech low in your throat once he spanked you and drew you closer. "I'll take them away if you don't." 

You greedily maneuver your way towards him, grinding your hips and tossing your head back so you're eye to eye with him, Chrollo smirking at your lulled expression and inching forward to kiss you, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip as you moan and rock back on his fingers, squealing in his mouth when he curled his fingers. 

"You like that shit?" He hummed deridingly, and you reply with a broken cry, his strong palm hitting against your ass sinisterly each time you moved back against his long fingers. He holds down the middle of your back to make you arch more, keeping you there while his hand wildly clapped on your skin, twisting and curling his middle and ring fingers to hit all the perfect spots. 

"Y-yes, that's—" Your voice cracks and you drop your head on your forearm, whining pathetically and it's nothing he loved more than that; your desperation. Chrollo took pride in watching you fuck his hand, using his free one to reach in his back pocket to retrieve the red box of Marlboro's, flicking it back so the lid flew open and wrapping his lips around one of the cancer sticks, finding the lighter in the same pocket and igniting his guilty need.

As he placed the cigarette between his fingers and released smoke into the air, his eyes devilishly study you, your hips quaking the faster you bounce them back, Chrollo grinning and speeding up his fingers until you jump and reach behind yourself to slow him down, his movement rapid and your voice couldn't help itself, your moans nearly echoing around the walls. 

"Move your hand," he rasps, instantly dropping to his knees, hands set under the curve of your ass with his breath hitting you, lower lip dropping and meeting with the upper slowly to kiss you hungrily, lashes grazing his cheekbones blissfully from the taste. You whimpered, hands in your own hair and stomach clenching as he effortlessly wrapped his lips around the entirety of you, a shudder coming from Chrollo the second a desperate whine tumbled from your throat.

"Ooh, keep going," the tears are coming down your eyes now. It felt too good and you hated that you had to restrict most of your sounds because of guests you wished would disappear for an hour or two. You hurriedly dip your hips and cry out when his thick tongue delves into your soppy hole, covetously rocking on his face for extra friction. Chrollo's tongue giving you heavy and hard licks. He grunts against you and hits your ass hard, being rougher with his tongue, flicking vehemently and swallowing like a starved man. 

Time slowed down and your senses came back to mind, hands flying to his shoulder to abruptly stop him when you watched the kitchen door swing open, clearing your throat and fixing your posture with annoyance when you see your brother walk in with an empty can of beer. You smile at him but he looks at you suspiciously.

"Why are you crying?" He asked with his face scrunched up.

You sniffle and clean your eyes, the embarrassment slowly getting to you. "It's the onions." 

You motion around the cutting board that was in front of you, coming up with that excuse at the top of your head and thankful for it actually being chopped onions placed there. You were also glad that your apron and the kitchen island covered Chrollo entirely. Your brother nods and walks to the fridge for another drink, breaking his eye contact with you which gave you the chance to bite your lip and roll your eyes back, Chrollo never stopping the movement of his tongue, only making it slower and quieter. 

"It smells like cigarettes," Your brother says. 

"Chrollo's out back smoking," You swallow, his fingers denting into your thighs tighter, biting them softly. "S-speaking of—why do you keep being a dick to him? I thought I talked to you about that. It's getting old now." 

That makes Chrollo stop and listen, resting his cheek on your ass while he smoked his cigarette. Your brother rolls his eyes. "It's not like I'm wrong. He's a cool guy and all, but he put you through a lot, and buying you things and marrying you doesn't make up for it. He needs to do more. You have a job, he doesn't. You're paying the bills when he should be. He's supposed to be the man of the house—"

"Let me stop you right there because you're not minding your business for one," You hold your hand up and Chrollo smiles. "Two, we take care of each other, we love each other and really that's all that matters and should be the only thing you need to know. I don't have an issue being the breadwinner for a few months while he finds a better career. We're stable and happy. He's made up for his mistakes, owned up to them, the past is in the past and I really don't need you lecturing him like you're his father. You think he doesn't beat himself up about this? He's going through enough and you're only making it worse. On top of that, I'm not a child, I'm grown and I can make my own decisions. I married him for a reason, point blank period." 

Chrollo almost snickers out loud, the silence in the room proving that you were one-hundred percent correct and your brother was way too protective and touching a topic that didn't need handling. He sighs and admits defeat, the booze making him more reasonable. "You're right. Maybe I am a dick." 

"Sometimes," You nod. 

"I'm sorry. I hate upsetting you. I'll apologize to him. I just have my moments where I'm too cautious about your well-being. If I think someone's wrong for you then it's a red light blinking in my face. It's clear you love him."

"And I will forever, you just have to suck it up and deal with it." 

"I will, I'll try— _slowly_. Promise," he raises his beer to you and winks. You shake your head. You could tell he was tipsy. 

"Thank you. Now don't ruin my Thanksgiving any further or you won't hear the end of it." 

"Yes," he salutes and makes his way back into the living room where the noise amped up a bit since they were on the fourth quarter. 

"Chrollo— _Jesus_ ," you gasp out of shock when he places his mouth back over you, not wasting any time jumping back into what he was doing. You clutch the edge of the countertop and throw your head back, trying as best as you could not to be too loud but you knew that was impossible to do with how wicked he was. Chrollo spreads your thighs apart, the cigarette in his left hand between his fingers nearly burning out near your flesh, thumbs holding your ass up so he could graze every inch of you with his mouth. 

"I fucking love you," he says breathlessly, using one hand to lower his zipper, releasing his achingly hard dick before wrapping his palm around and jerking himself, almost choking on the cigarette smoke, standing to his feet and flinging it into the dishwater in the sink and taking advantage of your body by enclosing your thighs around his cock and fucking them so hard you accidentally knock over a bowl of peppermints, Chrollo gripping the back of your neck and holding you down. 

Those moans you were suppressing bellowing out and you had no power to stop it, his roughness calling it out of you. His fingers slipped back inside you, guiding them with the same pace of his hips, the pleasure searing your brain. Chrollo brings his hand around to cover your mouth shut, your ragged breaths heavy in his palm. The lust vibrating from you both and your sound alone was enough for him pull out to release on the middle of your back in fast spurts of white, his jaw dropping and his legs twitching as he rushed his thumb across his tip and cursed under his breath. 

By now your apron is undone and most of the utensils in front of you had crashed to the ground. This would be the only time you were thankful for having speakers in your living room for surround sound. Chrollo hums to himself, letting go of your mouth and dropping to his knees to finish you off, burying his face in your ass to cut off most of his breathing. He loved the idea of you suffocating him. This time he lets you reach behind yourself to grip at his hair, something you were fond of doing that he wouldn't let you most times since it restricted him from moving his head. You did have a death grip that would burn his scalp. 

Your thighs quiver on his face, your stomach coiling as he moaned and tasted you, swallowing every last drop. You gasped so loud you hiccuped, placing your own hand over your mouth, screaming your voice dead in your palm as you came tediously in his mouth, squeezing your thighs shut as well as your eyes. Chrollo still overstimulating your orgasm as he suctioned his lips precipitately all over you. Moist lips pecking the flesh of your thighs to ease your orgasm, body trembling eccentrically, trying to regain your breath with your face squashed into the curve of your arm, completely perplexed. 

"Good job, baby," Chrollo consummated, standing to his full height and stroking your backside to ease you. "Now don't be rude, go watch the game with your guests." 

  
  
  



End file.
